


Double the Pleasure Is Triple The Fun

by evilmaniclaugh



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M, Multi, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:58:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3413261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilmaniclaugh/pseuds/evilmaniclaugh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers for 2.6.  Sometimes sex can bring with it resolution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double the Pleasure Is Triple The Fun

Riding away from the palace, Athos is resigned rather than angry. His feelings for Anne confuse him. If she would just go away then he could compartmentalise her and all would be good. Instead, he's left with this constant niggle of arousal and irritation. Perhaps it would be better if she were sleeping with someone she loved, maybe then he could let go, but instead she's playing fast and loose with the king, using him for her own gain and, all the while, taunting Athos with cruel words and come hither looks.

After stopping off at a tavern or three along the way, Athos decants a rather good claret and brings that and two flagons up to the captain's quarters, where he finds Treville staring wistfully at the commander's breastplate.

"You _will_ wear it again," says Athos from the doorway.

"No," says Treville. "There'll be a new captain soon." He accepts a cup of wine with a grateful nod. "Why are you not on duty?"

"Reasons," says Athos and then he looks out of the window at the darkening skies. "Anne."

Treville harrumphs in disappointment. "Let the wretched woman go," he says testily.

"Do you want to watch this damned eclipse?" Athos waves a gloved hand outside. "Or do you want to help me do just that?"

Cups spill as they come together in a collision of mouths. They're familiar with each other, they've been doing this a while, and Athos knows that Treville needs a seeing to as much as he does. It's why he came here.

"Get a move on, lad," says Treville, stripping him of his uniform with rough hands. "Help me get these clothes off. I want you naked now."

"Like that is it," smirks Athos. He enjoys their tussle for dominance. "Who says I'm going to roll over for you, captain?"

"Not your captain," snarls Treville, shoving him backwards until he falls onto the bed. "Get those fucking boots and breeches off now."

"If you're not my captain then why should I comply?"

Treville's half out of his clothes, stroking himself with rough pulls. He launches himself at Athos. "You'll comply because you want to, Athos. You want my cock in your arse. That's why you came here. You want me to fuck Milady de Winter out of your head." 

He kisses Athos savagely, lips bruising, teeth clashing, and humming with desire, Athos forces him off, throwing him over onto his back and returning the favour, but harder still.

"A lovely sentiment," says a voice from the doorway, "and a pretty sight also, but Aramis is dead, the king is in danger and we need to move fast."

Athos stares at his wife. In all the years he and Treville have been sleeping together, not once has anyone dared to enter the captain's private quarters without knocking. Trust her to be different.

"What do you mean, Aramis is dead?" he asks as he makes himself decent.

"He fell through a window," says Anne, gnawing on a chicken leg. "Long drop, sudden stop. Shame really, he was a gorgeous man."

Properly dressed, Athos folds his arms and watches her devour the meat. Christ, he loves her voracious appetites.

"If you think a fall will kill Aramis then you don't know him at all," says Treville. "Tell us what's going on."

"You're not seriously going to trust her?" says Athos in disbelief. He looks his scantily clad wife up and down and wants her in every way. "She's a liar."

"What choice do you have?" The liar grins coquettishly up at him and chucks the chicken bone aside to the floor.

"She's right, Athos," says Treville.

If they can rescue the king then this may be a way for Treville to regain favour, and with it the role of captain. It is for this reason alone that Athos goes along with the plan. 

They find some suitable apparel for Anne and Athos leans against the wall, watching her dress.

"I'm impressed with you, Athos," she says as she fastens her hair into a ponytail. "You make a better soldier than you ever did a count."

"I do," he agrees.

"I'm also pleasantly surprised at your libertinous ways."

"You're not the only one who can fuck away your pain," says Athos without concern.

The moment hangs in the air, the tension ramping as they stand two feet apart, hating, wanting, loving the hell out of each other.

"You should have gone when you had the chance," he says ending it.

"Why?" she snaps. "To make your life more pleasant? I don't think so, Athos. I live to torment you." 

"And you do it so well." He can feel himself begin to smile and rations it to a smirk.

"So, are we ready?" says Treville, poking his head around the door. "We have a job to do."

Not so long ago it would have been the captain's duty rather than a job, notes Athos. How life has changed since the appearance of that twerp Rochefort.

\---

There is something strange that happens after victory: a mentality that leads soldiers to drunken celebrations and more. It’s only after they free the king and Milady loses her status that Athos realises how similar he and Anne are. They probably always were.

Frustrated and, at the same time, exhilarated from the fight, she’s bright eyed, irritable and adrenalised. “I saved your life,” she says as she dismounts and hands the horse to the stable boy. “I lost mine.”

"You wormed your way into a life that wasn't yours," says Athos as he follows Treville up the stairs, neither waiting for, nor looking at Anne, but knowing she is there all the same. "Much as you did with me."

"You were a chubby faced, spoilt little virgin when I met you," she sneers, slamming the door of Treville's quarters, pouring wine into the two flagons then taking a slug from one and passing it to Athos. "You couldn't _wait_ for me to free you."

"Shut up, woman," says Treville, angry at having lost to Rochefort, yet again.

"Then shut him up," says Milady, undoing her belt and removing her cloak. She perches on the edge of Treville's desk, the second flagon of wine in her hand as she eyes the two men up and down. "Do what you were doing when I came here this morning."

Treville hesitates, looking warily at her, but Athos is fired up. He holds Treville's face in his hands and kisses him with fierce swipes of tongue, at the same time shoving him backwards to the bed. One glove comes off, allowing him to undo the fastenings on Treville's doublet and breeches, and as he strokes Treville's cock with calloused fingers, he holds out a hand to Anne.

"What makes you think I want to join you," she says.

Still working Treville's cock, he looks over a shoulder at his wife. "Because I can sense your arousal from here, _Milady_ , but it's your choice. Toss a coin if you must: come here or leave us be."

Treville takes advantage of Athos' lack of concentration to flip him over, undressing him with agile fingers. "Who says I want her in my bed?" he says as he thumbs Athos' nipple.

"Because you succumb to me so very willingly," says Anne.

Treville throws his head back as she bites into his exposed shoulder.

"You only give way to someone you swear to hate if you really want to fuck them." Her kisses trail up his neck and along his jaw. "Now suck Athos off. We both know how much he loves it, and I want to see your mouth around his cock, _captain_."

She proclaims his former rank with a combination of snideness and venom, and Athos can tell how much it incenses Treville. It is the key to his passion, though, and he nips his way down Athos' half clothed body, ripping open the fastenings of his undergarments and taking him deep into his throat.

Anne remains unusually passive as she watches the blow job intently. She’s moulded into the contour of Athos' body and he reaches down, raising her shift and sliding his hand under silk knickers and into her cunt. It's the first time he's touched her in years and she responds in the same way as always, a whisper of a sigh as he circles the nub of her clitoris with fingers that are wet from her own juices. They kiss, five years of anger winding backwards into something that was beautiful -- for him at least.

"I want to fuck you, Athos," says Treville, climbing his body to join them in their kisses.

"I want to watch you fuck him," says Anne, smirking at the captain. She will not give an inch of ground.

"Then have me whichever way you wish." Athos is enjoying being the pawn in their games for now. He'll get what he wants eventually. "Sit here, Anne." Indicating the head of the bed, he shoves down his breeches and dips to take Treville's cock into his mouth, sucking him deep and slow until the captain is groaning with pleasure, pushing him away when it becomes too much.

Anne lounges against the headboard, and having rid herself of knickers and shift, she leans forward to remove her boots.

"No," says Athos, staring at her in open appreciation. She’ll always be the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. When he eventually speaks again, his voice is hoarse with unbridled need. "Keep them on."

She smiles at him without guile, unloosing her hair from its binding, and as it tumbles over her shoulders he heaves in an exhilarated breath. She is a goddess to him and always will be: Aphrodite, Artemis, Hera. He is hers and she his, however much they might loathe one another. She takes off the riband that covers the scars he inflicted on her, watching for a reaction as she does so. There is none. She has earned those marks.

On all fours, he kneels between her legs, kissing each thigh delicately then moving up into the swell of her cunt. As he does so, Treville opens him up with slick fingers and he moans at the feel of being stretched, excited at being used this way in front of her.

"Fuck him," insists Anne. "I want to see you fuck him."

Athos doesn't need to look up to know how bright her eyes are. How she and Treville are staring at each other across the battleground of his body. He licks into her, teasing her clit, sucking at it then swirling his tongue around and around until she is rocking against his mouth.

"God," he says in a low voice moving away from her as Treville enters him. "That's... oh that's it." He angles his body until Treville’s cockhead is rubbing against that sweet spot inside his body. "So good."

Anne strokes his back in endless patterns as she watches their sex. "We should have done this," she murmurs. "I would have enjoyed fucking you with a dildo, Olivier."

It is the first time she's used his given name and it feels both wrong and right. To hide his confusion, he buries himself in her cunt, teasing her with fingers and tongue until she's crying out, trying to push him away when the sensation is too much and then coming abruptly again. He knows her body. They spent a full year doing nothing but this. They'd spent an entire morning loving each other, the day she'd...

With an anguished groan, he rolls away from her and lies on his back. "Like this," he says and Treville spreads over him, taking him roughly. As always the captain knows him well.

"Fuck her," says Treville, his words a whisper. "It may be what you need."

Athos steers Anne closer to him with a hand around the back of her neck, and then kisses her hard on the mouth. Treville moves away and Athos pulls her on top. "We’ve hurt each other," he says as she seats herself and he is once again inside her. It's been so long. So many lovers for her, so few for him.

She nods. "We always will." Looking over her shoulder she says to Treville: "You as well. No slacking off, captain."

Emotions and memories shoved to one side, the fuck becomes a wild ride, and it's exactly what they all need after a day of fighting and fun. Wine is shared, along with bodies, and Athos is comforted to feel Treville against him, separated only by skin.

They have each other in all ways possible until they are utterly spent, and wind up sprawled together in a messy jumble of bare flesh and clothing.

"I rent rooms in Rue Ferou. You may use them for as long as you wish, once you have moved out of the Louvre Palace," says Athos. His head is on Treville's chest and as he strokes Anne's hair he listens to thump of that steady heart. "I'll stay here at the garrison."

There is no hope for them and they both know it. The love is still there, the desire intense, but that river of hurt is too wide to bridge with just a roll between the sheets.

"This time I will leave Paris," says Anne. "But on _my_ terms."

Wiping herself down with a damp cloth, she dresses, once again, as a man in her belted brown cloak, and Athos has never known her look so beautiful. 

"I'll take a horse from the stables,” she says, draining the final drops of wine into a cup and swigging it down. “Goodbye, Treville. Goodbye, Athos.”

“Goodbye, Milady,” says Athos, knowing that Anne de la Fère is finally dead.


End file.
